


There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

by dnwinch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, I'm so sorry, well it's the 80's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5925598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnwinch/pseuds/dnwinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire has a side job that no one knows about at a gay bar. Enjolras decides to go to one for the first time. Then fate kicks in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil thing to note uh in the 80s in the US the drinking age was 18 so yeah that may make this fic more understanding. Anyways I hope you like it!! The title is the title of the song by The Smiths. Enjoy fam~

“Sorry I’m late! There was traffic on the subway down here.” yelled Grantaire, seemingly into the void.

“It’s okay,” replied his boss, Musichetta, “But just try not to do it again, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles to himself in the mirror. He then promptly plops his messenger bag on the vanity lying in front of him, the sound of whatever Journey or Ziggy Stardust song was blasting through the speakers already beginning to manifest itself as a migraine in his head. He removes his shirt and pants, replacing them with tight, silver shorts and a tank top. The glamorous life of a club dancer. He laughs at himself in the mirror.

Grantaire felt bad lying to his friends constantly about where he was going. He knew that they would accept him, they always would no matter what. Though Grantaire’s not the type to be easily made embarrassed, this part of his life most certainly did embarrass him. Courfeyrac was the only one to know, and even that was just for safety reasons.

His shift progressed as normal, performing his dance moves with more ferocity but with a lack of motivation, as if someone else were controlling his body. He was just going through the movements. Finally his break came to pass, and he pushed his way through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to the break room. He sat down, nursing the bag of peanuts he stole from the bar, and put his headphones on, connecting back to his walkman. In it played “The Queen Is Dead” by The Smiths. The best album ever written, if you’d asked him.

The half hour passed, and as the clock struck five of 10:00, he ran a hand through his carefully sprayed hair. He put away his headphones and threw himself back out there. As he walked towards the bar, he saw a familiar figure among the prong of people on the dance floor. It must have been a trick of the eye, he had told himself. But he looked again, and his eyes truly did not deceive him.

It was Enjolras.

Now, here’s the thing about Enjolras. No one really knows where he stands on the spectrum of his sexual orientation. With the current AIDs crisis in the city, Enjolras and his group of strong-minded kids, barely 18, were dangerously vocal about the lack of involvement from the government. Gay men were being killed by this disease that no one understood, and the government wasn’t even trying to begin to understand. Enjolras had always been clear about everyone having the ability to love and sleep with who they choose. It’s just that that issue had never been personal for Enjolras.

Maybe until now.

Grantaire observed him from across the room. He wasn’t with another guy, it seemed. He was nursing a drink, assumably bought for him. With Enjolras’ looks, it wouldn’t be hard to get drinks for free.

He wasn’t trying to dance with anyone either. He seemed to just be getting a feel for the situation. Grantaire noticed that he happened to be wearing what may have been the tightest pants he’d ever seen. Now that just wasn’t fair.

 _What did this mean?_ Grantaire asked himself. _Why is he here? Is he gay? Is he trying to sleep with a guy? Or does he know I work here? Is he looking for me? No. Stop that. Don’t get your hopes up, asshole. He’s here to meet a guy. Obviously._ Grantaire shook his head as if to erase his train of thought.

Grantaire had been pining, more or less, for Enjolras ever since they were sophomores in high school. The two were now seniors. He looked at Enjolras again. He was making eye contact with another man and smiling. At that moment Grantaire decided to actively avoid him for the rest of the night.

By the time that 1am rolls around, Grantaire has barely seen Enjolras. Grantaire has been dancing on the stage all night, in plain sight, but he hasn’t seen a trace of the other man once. _Great._ He thought, _He must’ve gone home with someone._

The last song of that set ends, and Grantaire heads towards the bar to steal some more of their peanuts.

“Grantaire?” He hears. 

_Fuck._

Grantaire turns around, and when he sees Enjolras sitting at the opposite end of the bar, he acts surprised. 

“Enjolras? What are you doing here?” He says half surprised, but half genuine. 

“I could ask you the same.” He took a defiant sip of whatever new drink he was nursing. 

“I work here. I dance on the stage. It pays good money, and it’ll help with college.”

“Oh, so that’s a thing you’re doing?” Enjolras teases. Fuck. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a thing I’m doing.” Enjolras smiles at him. It’s almost sad, and very, very intoxicated. 

“Okay, well, I have to go, I have another set starting soon. I’ll… I’ll talk to you soon, Enjolras.” Grantaire grants him a bidding smile.

“Yeah, yeah, see you soon.” Enjolras downs the rest of his drink. Grantaire turns on his heel.

“Oh, and Enjolras?” 

“Yeah?”

“Could you, uh, not tell anyone that I work here?” he silently pleads. 

“Yeah, of course.” His sad smile returns.

“Thank you.” and he goes. 

 

Out of curiosity, Enjolras approaches the stage, but steers towards the back of the crowd. The music begins to grow louder, and he sees the dancers mount the stage. Immediately he knows which one is Grantaire.

The song’s chorus begins. The dancers start to move. Enjolras’ face burns red.   
He leaves and never looks back.

 

After his final set of the night, Grantaire goes up to the bar hoping to see the blonde sitting there. He’s not. Grantaire can’t help the feeling of disappointment that spreads throughout him.

The next Monday at school, they never run into each other. The weren’t avoiding each other, per se, but more so just actively dreading the thought of seeing one another.

“Hey Courf.” Grantaire says as he approaches him by his locker.

“I need to tell you something.”

“It better be something good, because if it’s not, and you’ve been leading me on, and I will end our friendship if you lead me on by tempting me with good details.” Courfeyrac smirks.

“Enjolras was at the bar on Saturday. By himself.” 

“What?” Courfeyrac stops putting his books away. 

“Yeah. I tried to ignore him but he saw me and it was quick but we talked while he sat at the bar and I thought we were having a moment but then after my final set he was just gone. I never saw him with another guy that night even though he was totally using them to get free drinks because I mean, who wouldn’t if you looked like he does? But it’s all so confusing, does this mean he likes guys? Like do I at least statistically speaking have a chance? But it seems like he doesn’t even want it so-”

“Can you chill the fuck out?” Courfeyrac interludes. Grantaire laughs.

“Just, whoa. Okay.” He runs a swift hand through his hair. 

“He was there?”

“Yeah.”

“And you swear to God you had a moment and your wishful thinking didn’t create it?”

“I swear.”

“He left right after your final set you said?”

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac ponders for what were likely moments, but seemed like hours. 

“Talk to him. Ask him straight up why he was there. I’d say normally it’s rude to barge in on other people’s lives, but this directly is affecting you, isn’t it? You have a right to at least ask.” Grantaire smiled. 

“Thank you, Courf.” He patted him on the arm, pacing the hallway swiftly in search of Enjolras.

 

As the final bell of the day rang out, he caught the familiar stature pushing through the crowd.

“Enjolras!” he called out, running up to him. 

“Oh, hey Grantaire. What’s up?” He smiled innocently. It was purely awful in the eyes of Grantaire. 

“Well, uh…” all of Grantaire’s motor functions began to seem to slip. 

“Grantaire?” Enjolras’ eyes were searching. 

“There’s no non-weird way to do this. But, uh, I was looking forward to seeing you after my set on Saturday. I was kind of upset that you weren’t there.” He spat out. 

“Uh, oh…” Enjolras began. 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize what time it was and I had to be home before my parents had realized I’d snuck out.” If Grantaire had become outwardly disappointed, well, he couldn’t really control that. 

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you.” Grantaire turned on his heel. A beat passed. 

“Wait, Grantaire!” Enjolras cried. Grantaire turned again. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’d be lying if I said that that was my only reason for leaving.” Enjolras bit his lip. 

“What else?” Grantaire’s eyes were thick with confusion, but still remained sharp.

“It was… I saw you dancing… and all of those men near you… and I couldn’t do it.” he practically spilled out.

“What… what are you saying, Enjolras?” The confusion began to clear.

“I’m saying that I feel something for you and that I went to that bar that night to meet someone that I could get with to try and get over you. Except instead of getting over you you work there and I spent the whole night thinking about you. And then I saw you dance and it was cowardly but it was too much and I just needed to leave and I’m sorry for it but I-”

Enjolras was cut off by Grantaire’s lips on his own.

“I feel like I’ve just been waiting to hear you say it for years.” Grantaire retreated and rested his forehead against the other man’s. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for years.” Enjolras replies back, supporting his claim by kissing the other man again.

“Hm, aren’t I supposed to be the emotionally unstable one?” Grantaire joked. Enjolras scoffed. 

“Well, you know what they say,” he rested his hand on Grantaire’s cheek.

“We’re all human.” and kissed him again.


End file.
